


Sweet as Cherries

by SilvenWolf



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: 'The photo Scho owns is of his sister and nieces' headcanon, 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blake Lives, Blakefield, Don't expect too many frequent updates, Hanahaki Disease, I'm soft I swear, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Schofield POV (mostly), eventual hurt/comfort, no eventual smut, sorry there is no hetero explination for this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23492890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvenWolf/pseuds/SilvenWolf
Summary: Five times Scho gets away with coughing up flowers, one time he doesn't.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	Sweet as Cherries

**Author's Note:**

> Because after this post (https://thusfeathered.tumblr.com/post/614172858556596224/so-hanahaki-aus-right-haha) I realized I was still not satisfied.
> 
> Not beta read, someday I'll be struck down for this hubris.
> 
> These chapters will probably be quite small I apologize. I'm definitely not used to writing

The 8th, everything was so new yet painfully stagnant all the same. Having seen so many people come and go, especially now...the constantly changing roster of people in the same looking trenches for months on end, it had never been this easy to become completely detached.

Nothing felt grounded anymore, every single thing drenched in drab greens and greys while faces no longer took any permanence in his mind. In the dark frigid light of dawn no features could be made out anyway, causing the men to look like nothing more then ghostly featureless figures, silent and unresponsive.

Baffling how such crowded places can still feel so dead, as if no matter where you went the chill of hauntings followed.

...Brushing calloused fingers through his dirt caked hair, Scho took a shaky breath, closing his eyes only to open them again once he realized not even that granted him relief from the memories he hoped had been left somewhere else in France.

Maybe he had actually left something behind, a part of him, wondering the ledges of Somme like he had never moved on.

"Bloody hell…" Suddenly came a voice, jarring against the unsettling quiet.

Scho couldn't help but look up from his thoughts, shaken by the frustrated musings of a soldier beside him. He'd completely forgotten he had been picking up his rations, now eyeing the can of bully beef held lazily in his hand. 

"You'd think they'd know how to at least heat up food."

"Welcome to the front lines," The words came out dry and sarcastic yet Scho had no idea what prompted him to reply at all. For a moment, he hadn't even realized he had said anything until he saw the soldier's attention suddenly land on him. 

He had to hold back a grimace, mentally kicking himself for engaging at all. It was too early for this and there was no doubt he wouldn't have the energy to deal with the possibility his reply struck a nerve.

Taking another side glance at the guy though he didn't appear annoyed by the remark. Ruffled at worst, inquisitive at best. After a moment the soldier simply shrugged, shoving the can in his jacket and looking over the crowd of people.

"Yeah well you'd be amazed by what people can accomplish when stuck in a shit hole."

Scho no longer was offering the other much attention, instead more focused on collecting the rest of his share, only giving a lackluster 'uh huh' to act as if he'd been listening. 'You'd be amazed' was an attitude he knew never survived long, the soldier must be new. And if the same soldier noticed the blatant uninterest Scho presented, he didn't show it.

"I know a guy who got his hands on a Primus stove, family probably sent him it or so-"

"A stove?"

The boy blinked as Scho's attention was suddenly caught. 

"Yeah, a stove. Lad let me use it since I so happened to know how they worked."

He continued to look at him with silent disbelief, the soldier frowned, unsure to be amused or concerned. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we used it...if that's what you're thinking?"

Noticing he'd probably been staring, Scho sheepishly tried directing his gaze somewhere else, giving a curt nod. It seemed a good enough response to the soldier as he nodded back, tapping Scho gently on the shoulder to wordlessly say 'follow me then'.

Watching the guy enter back into the crowd, Scho couldn't help but wonder what he'd gotten himself into, feet instinctively moving to keep up.

…

God be damned, the younger boy hadn't been lying. Resting in a small dug out in the trench, Scho sat watching the small flames of the portable stove lap and dance. The fellow soldier had already warmed up his bully beef, finishing it off by the time Scho's own food had reached a reasonable warmth.

Everywhere in the trench was cold and dirty yet still the small space allowed a sense of security and peace. The morning light that had once only been trickling in was now illuminating the whole area, snuffing out the previously dark frozen corners, all made better when Scho finally pried the can open.

The feeling of having something you'd forgotten you'd ever missed in the first place is a hard feeling to explain. Like suddenly all your senses can't get enough of what used to be so mundane. It was hard not to completely finnish the tin in seconds. The warmth of the food filling his chest felt like utter bliss.

Apparently Scho wasn't subtle at all with how stupidly happy such a small thing had made him because soon the sounds of gentle laughter reached his ears. Taking his lips away from the can he quickly glanced over at what was becoming an acquaintance at best.

"You're acting as if this is your last supper."

Wiping his mouth, Scho tried to offer a small chuckle but it came out forced and mirthless, his brain suddenly wondering back to somewhere else again. His lack of response didn't stop the soldier from filling in the silence though.

"So what's your name?"

Scho delayed to realize he'd been asked a question but eventually it did register, making him unexpectedly anxious. It was just a name, why was he so reluctant to say it…

"Lance Corporal Schofield, uh, you?"

"Tom Blake, I mean, Lance Corporal Blake, it's nice to meet you Schofield," he eagerly responded, barely giving Scho time to even finish his own words. 

And before he could say anything a hand was being offered to him with an enthusiasm Scho felt he hadn't seen in an awful amount of time. The headshake was reciprocated, thought slightly reluctantly, unsure.

Such honest friendly contact with someone was a far cry from what Scho was used to, the simple contact of the handshake feeling like a small prickle of electricity through his body. 

His eyes then wandered from their hands to Blake's face, taking in the youthful smile and rich blue eyes that he couldn't believe he missed. The way his helmet lay slightly askew on his head, messy dark hair peaking just below the rim. Scho could only feel himself letting go to the warmth of the handshake once Blake himself retracted his hand, returning to the small scraps left in his can.

Something pounded in Scho's chest and he felt slightly lost once Blake broke their gaze. What had gotten him feeling so abnormal? Trying to return to what he was doing, his mind instead remained blanketed in weird fuzz, like a blanket of cotton covering his senses.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Blake-" just as he finished his response he felt his voice hitch slightly as an uncomfortable scratchy, tickling sensation bloomed in his throat. 

A few attempts to clear his throat seemed to fix that in no time, only receiving a small glance from Blake, making sure he was alright. Giving his own chest a few pats, Scho shook it off, just glad the feeling had been cleared so quickly. 

Uncovering his hand from his mouth though, a subtly frown formed on Scho's face. A single, fragile cherry blossom petal lay comfortably in his palm. Had that come from him? How could it have. Swiftly glancing around no others appeared visible, only serving to puzzle him further. It was probably not worth worrying about anyway.

After all, it was just one petal.


End file.
